


Romance of the Drum

by Gnosya108



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22465138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnosya108/pseuds/Gnosya108
Summary: While on a night out with Marisa, Sanae meets a woman who she finds herself very attracted to.
Relationships: Horikawa Raiko/Kochiya Sanae
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Romance of the Drum

Sanae hadn’t been inclined, nor would she ever be inclined, to be the sort of person to spend much time in a bar, and yet a bar was where she was. This had been at the behest of Marisa, who’d been spurned by Reimu due to some disagreement or other. While she’d been filled in by Marisa about the nature of the disagreement, which was related to who deserved the credit for the solving of a particular incident, she hadn’t truly listened because this, while not common, wasn’t a regular occurrence and happened less because Reimu and Marisa didn’t get along and more because they did.

They were the sorta friends whose fights were more for show than actual disagreements. If anything, it was a means of letting out steam that was incredibly indirect and yet served to get the job done. Major disagreements rarely tended, actually, to cause any argument so much as they caused intense discussions. By tomorrow night, they might as well be close again.

Even so, Marisa would, at times like these, come by and ask Sanae out for a drink. The first several times, Sanae had felt sympathy for Marisa, and had attempted to give advice. As this happened again and again, Sanae discovered her advice wasn’t needed, and instead continued to attend outta habit, and because Marisa was a friend and fun to spend time around. Even so, Sanae wasn’t the type of person to go to bars, or even partake in much drink. As a result, these nights were something of an interruption, though not an unwelcome one, so long as nothing unusual would happen.

“As the miko of a rival shrine, thass why I called ya the first time, Sawnny,” said Marisa, several drinks in. “But yer good comp’ny so I decided, well, well, uh, I wann’da talk witcha again.” Marisa blinked while staring at Sanae, her mouth gaping and expression thoughtful as though considering something incredibly complicated. “We’s had this discussion before, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sanae watched the shamisen player on stage. Some nights, this bar, outside of the village, had youkai performers, although the resident performers tended to be the shamisen players. When it wasn’t the shamisen players, it tended to be the Prismrivers, and, on one occasion, Choujuu Gigaku, who’d taken to making guerrilla performances a parta their philosophy after an eventful night.

“Ya bored? Ya had a plan or som’ing? ‘Cause I c’n just go and talk to Reimu we’re not like, y’know, gonna fucking kill each others if we go and, uh, uh, rain the bullet on each other, yeh.” Marisa wrapped an arm around Sanae, who smiled nervously in return. Tonight might be eventful or not. The uneventful nights with Marisa were, to an extent, the better ones, because they didn’t involve much of what Sanae would have to explain to Kanako or Suwako, as a result of Aya’s papers documenting them.

“No, I’m fine.” Sanae took another drink of Sake. She couldn’t imagine very well the relationship that Marisa and Reimu had. It seemed, on the whole, to possess a sorta propriety that couldn’t ever be reconciled with any notions of general propriety. It was something particular to them, who had been so close for longer than Sanae had ever imagined. “So, it was Sekibanki that time?”

“Yeah, but asked by Kageroo to burn the place down ‘cause it kept making it harder to hunt, and all’s that did though is make the Kappas mad, and they made a louder machine. And everyone afraid it’s a bad she or som’ing.” Marisa ordered another round. The bar owner added it to her tab. Apparently the tab got paid, although Sanae always was afraid that, one day, she’d be the one to settle Marisa’s tab for some reason or other.

“Right, so, we go and, uh, ah, hellooooooooooo!” Marisa waved her hand to someone in the background. Sanae focused on the sake. It tasted good enough that she could enjoy it. 

Sanae liked to meet new people, or talk with old people, but nights like this created a gamble between the possibility of not-well-thought-out excitement depending on who would be met. Several times, she had been with Marisa and Suika had joined them, and the next day she’d been on the front page of Bunbunmaru and everyone in the village knew that she’d assisted Suika with turning a dozen or so trees into what could be described as a log cabin, and then, subsequently, had watched it break when Suika fell on it, and helped burn and destroy the ruins.

“Ah, you met Sawnny, yeah?” asked Marisa. Her hand clapped on Sanae’s back and Sanae let out a long sigh, and prepared herself for what may, perhaps, be an Eventful night.

“Not yet,” said the new arrival. The voice was deep, and had a nice rigor to it. It might be described as booming, but had neither loudness nor roughness. The confidence apparent in such a voice could not be ignored. Sanae wondered what sorta person the voice belonged to. The mystery couldn’t be held back for too long, although Sanae enjoyed the mystery. The voice itself was incredibly attractive to her, so much so that she blushed thinking of who it’d belong to.

Breaking the silence, she turned herself in her chair to surrender herself to what the truth of the matter would be, and the woman to whom such a voice would belong. After draining her glass of sake and ordering another, she gave herself to the conversation in order to introduce herself.

“Ah, it’s you,” said Raiko. “Sani, was it?” She had a fave that was, in some ways, boyish, and in other ways extremely feminine. What makeup she wore was understated for the most part, disregarding glittery colored eyelashes and glittery lipstick. She had her arms crossed, not in disinterest or indignation, but instead casually. What malignancy Sanae understood could be beneath the surface could not be betrayed by a single glance. Any appraisal of her would find only the possibility of some fault, but nothing truly mal-intentional.

A jacket had been tied around her waist by its sleeves, while a dress shirt remained with a loosened tie. The sleeves of the dress shirt had been drawn up her arms, revealing well-muscled arms. In her left hand, she had drumsticks. She had not sweated tonight, at least not yet, but if she had, Sanae might have been overwhelmed. She already wanted this woman to hold her tightly.

“Sanae,” she said, introducing herself. “Marisa is just...” Sanae had to wonder if she’d have to come up with a polite way of saying hammed, but Marisa interrupted her.

“’M sloshed. ‘Nother fight with Reimoo. But we’s good. ‘S nothing real. But the sake’s real.” Raiko nodded, maybe because she understood through experience, or maybe just as acceptance of that explanation.

“Ah. That’s always fun. I think I remember a news story about a log cabin last year. It involved an oni, yes?”

“Y-yeah,” said Sanae. It’d been the most recent exploit, so likely the most memorable regardless of that, also, it was the largest exploit yet. Most hadn’t inspired the same amount of notoriety as that exploit --- as it really couldn’t be called an incident --- had.

Raiko laughed. It was a nice, deep laugh with a tone of playfulness in it. Sanae wanted to listen to that laugh again, but she turned away under the pretense of seeing how long until she’d receive her next cup of sake, so that she would not end up having stared at her.

“I remember one night with the Tsukumo sisters. We tend to be on the louder side. Have you met them?”

“Once,” said Sanae. She’d had the benefit of meeting them at a festival at the Hakurei Shrine. Among a crowd of those who could easily be deemed noteworthy, they had the advantage of having been performers that very same night. “They seemed nice.”

“They don’t cause trouble. Or rather, they don’t find causing trouble to be a mission.” Raiko took a seat besides Sanae, since it the one on the other side of Marisa was occupied. Marisa herself spun in her chair, stopping herself so she faced Sanae and Raiko.

“I don’t cause trouble,” she said.

“You don’t. But some people do. I don’t see the need to do so. I prefer something more akin to, enjoying life.”

“A real artist,” said Marisa. The sarcasm was lost on Raiko, whose confidence visibly grew, as though nurtured, in that moment.

“I suppose I am.” Sanae stared at her, interestedly, without saying a word due to expecting Marisa or Raiko to say more. But when this turned out to be a misjudgment, she ended up staring continuously until it came that something occurred to Raiko.

“Speaking of, Sanae?”

“Ah, yes?” Sanae hoped that the awkwardness had wholly passed with that. Still, there remained something on her part due to the recurring intrusions in her head of Raiko’s attractiveness, the image of her strong arms, her handsome and yet beautiful face.

“Do you come here often? I’d hope that you do.” The smile she gave Sanae, both incredibly sincere and yet, simultaneously, having the first hint that Sanae had found of any hidden intentions that Raiko might have. Instinct told her to be wary, and yet the sincerity of Raiko told her that, at the least, there could be a few seconds taken to determine intentions.

Meanwhile, behind Sanae, Marisa took a drink to hide her face, which held all the signs of subdued laughter. A grin refused to be painted over, and Raiko surely would ask of why Marisa had it. Thus it was best for Marisa to look away until this conversation, of which she had a similar idea as Sanae, would pass.

Sanae couldn’t wonder if she wanted to answer with a lie, so that she might have a reason to come more often and meet Raiko. That would, however, not be productive or fruitful. The honest answer, which would arrive but arrive too late, was circumvented by Raiko instead adding:

“My band and I have a show tomorrow night.” The silence from Sanae lead Raiko to, in order to hopefully continue the conversation, add, “so if you come often, maybe you’ll be there? We want a good crowd.” A look of confusion dressed her face when Marisa burst into laughing behind Sanae.

“You don’t know… what that sounded like, do you?!” Marisa kept on laughing while Sanae blushed profusely, believing that a new awkwardness would arise once the misunderstanding had been resolved through an explanation of what and Marisa had been believed to be meant.

“What?” asked Raiko, innocently.

Once Marisa had explained that implications of the line ‘do you come here often,’ which, by now though they were a joke, still held onto those same implications and could easily be misconstrued as meant seriously if there’s no reason to believe them to be a joke. Now understanding that it’d sounded as though Raiko had intended to have a night of pleasure, or maybe a relationship, with Sanae, Raiko was somewhat bothered but not for very long, while Sanae dwelled on it silently. For her sake, Marisa invited Raiko to the stage, where Raiko set up her drum for the following night.

Sanae listened to the current music by the shamisen player, who’d tired and retired their virtuosic pieces for more silent, plaintive, or simply reflective pieces that slightly helped Sanae’s mood through their resonance and harmony with her. 

“This night’s been. Complicated.” No one heard her, or paid no attention. Although the night itself had no large difficulties, still Sanae felt it to be a failure of some sort, moreso, by some subjective measures, than the night in which the oni crushed the cabin. Though Sanae had done nothing herself, an ambiance of embarrassment had become a new companion to her.

When the drumming began, she turned and saw Raiko on stage, the shamisen player sitting on the edge and having a drink of water. Raiko played well, very rehearsed, and although the taiko definitely felt very loud, the volume was controlled, likely due to the nature of the performance as occurring in a relatively small, closed-up space like this bar.

Marisa stood besides Raiko, and Sanae wondered if she could be besides Raiko to, and if she could have talked with her had she not been overwhelmed by such ideas as embarrassment or awkwardness, howevermuch her feelings may or may not be valid in a situation such as this, when the misunderstanding had been, truly, small. 

Her being at the center of the misunderstanding that night was what inspired this embarrassment, and the strong feelings associated with it, although Raiko herself, despite because the cause of that misunderstanding, didn’t feel that same embarrassment. Sanae seeked what might be the resolution to this seemingly peculiar turn of events, only to realize that she’d already been embarrassed, and somewhat outside of herself when that misunderstanding occurred, and she was more embarrassed at her attraction to this new woman than anything.

Such thoughts occupied her so that she didn’t notice the tone of the drumming change immensely, and become less deliberate, while simultaneously the shamisen player began to play along incredibly clumsily, due to the newfound inability of the taiko drumming to follow any tempo.

“Feeling any better?” asked Raiko, putting a hand on Sanae’s shoulder. Sanae froze. Raiko’s voice had been partially subdued by playing the drum, but she had that same confidence. What made Sanae nervous was what she indeed saw when she turned to look at Raiko: the woman herself, sweaty, strong arms and smiling. The intensity of Sanae’s attraction grew, as did her embarrassment.

“H-hot,” was all that she could say. Raiko laughed, now with an understanding of Sanae’s opinion towards her, and also without the disadvantage of not measuring her words. The same sincerity remained on her face, with a newfound playfulness more akin to friendliness than mischief. The same playfulness made a melody to the beat of her laugh, as it had earlier this night. What was not visible nor audible was that, now understanding where she stood against Sanae, Raiko could choose her words carefully.

“Hm?” asked Raiko. She hadn’t really heard what was said. It had been said too quickly and too excitedly. But she knew what had been said, and so this, too, was playful.

“You’re hot,” said Sanae, who, being backed into a corner, had the freedom of not having any or many lies she could say to remove herself from this situation. The freedom, as much as it was refreshing, scared her. Even so, there wasn’t that such conversations as this were something she couldn’t handle; she’d handled conversations like this before, and would possibly continue to. “I think you’re hot.”

“I like the honesty,” said Raiko. She sat in the chair besides Sanae. She stretched her arms forwards casually, presenting them unintentionally to Sanae. Raiko had a subtle naivety. She understood what might inspire feelings of attraction towards her, but there would always be the things she would do where she had no idea of what attraction she was inspiring by doing something somewhat casual.

“I have to admit it now, don’t I. You’ve noticed me blushing, right?”

“Sometimes.” Raiko smiled at Sanae, who smiled back, more comfortable now. They sat in silence, and through only that came a sort of relief that lead Sanae’s comfort to become incredibly robust, so much so that Sanae volunteered to ask:

“Would you say that I’m hot?”

“Cute, yes,” said Raiko. Sanae blushed again, deeply, and had to drink to try to hide her face without turning away from Raiko. The soft smile on Raiko’s face was reassuring. It gave her some hope of creating some sorta relationship from this, not as a way to salvage a night that, regardless, due to Sanae’s temperament would be a night remembered as nervous, but to allow the creation of something for the future that may make it enjoyable.

“I’ve thought you were hot since I saw you at the danmaku competition,” admitted Sanae. “I’d like to get to know you better, if I could. Dates and all, that sorta thing.” Raiko laughed, not condescendingly, but good-naturedly, so that Sanae couldn’t be discouraged by it.

“I thought you were cute back then too. And I don’t think about dating much but, I think I’d like a date with you. It’ll be fun.” The looks she gave Sanae had the impression of some intent, some action that she was considering taking that might cross over a boundary, and was unsure if such would be welcome. Apparently deciding not, Raiko instead said, “so where are we going to?”

“Yes! Yes,” said Sanae. “Of course. Um. Where would you like to go?”

On the stage, Marisa laughed louder than she pounded the drum, louder than the shamisen player, who had taken to playing a percussive tune so she could pluck the strings loud enough to be heard at least somewhat over Marisa’s boorish and drunken taiko playing. This cacophony played as Sanae and Raiko talked, little by little, revealing the smallest portions of themselves to the other in the hopes that something nascent existed between them that might grow well, for as far as it would, for as long as it would, something beautiful and lovely.

**Author's Note:**

> I did this in three hours, and its a mess partially bc of that and partially bc I've been reading too many stories of sensibility for a class of mine, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless.
> 
> I did enjoy writing it though. :)


End file.
